


Good Morning, Indeed

by orphan_account



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, post-battle of smithsonian, pre-secret of the tomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Directly after the events of Battle of the Smithsonian: Jed and Oct are the only ones awake in the hall of miniatures. They talk about things, including cowboy lingo and near-death experiences. Shameless and ridiculous fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning, Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> A few things:  
> \- This is the first fic I've ever posted.  
> \- I am aware that it is shabbily constructed and goofily written. It was midnight. I was hellbent on writing about these dorks. This monstrosity was born.  
> \- Commentary is appreciated.  
> \- I know they don't really sleep, they kinda just...freeze...but bear with me, okay?

The museum was quieter than it had ever been, Octavius noted, watching the moon sink ever lower in the sky through a nearby window. But this quiet was not of the eerie ilk that often hovered over artifacts -- no, it was the gentle silence of sleep, of a family reunited, exhausted, and home at last. A thousand creatures seemed to exhale softly in unison. He wondered briefly if he was the only resident awake, but stopped himself, smiling. Jed was probably still up.  


Yawning, the Roman stretched slowly to his feet, striding toward his exhibit -- his home. Sure enough, he could see his cowboy companion perched between their two kingdoms, nursing a flask where rigid marble met rustic sand. As he closed the distance between them, he wondered what he would say to his brother-in-arms. So much had happened, so much had changed…  


“Hey, helmet-head, you look like hell. Why ain’tcha sleepin’?” Jedediah crowed, mouth quirked upward. Octavius smiled. Perhaps not much had changed at all.  


“There will be time for sleep,” the Roman explained, sitting beside his gruff friend. “Besides, I could ask the same of you, could I not?”  


“You got me there,” Jed responded, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m too wound-up, I reckon. Too much excitement in a night for this ol’ acorn calf.”  


Octavius laughed quietly, staring at his sandaled feet. “I’ll never understand the intricacies of your western dialect,” he lamented.  


“And I won’t get yours, neither,” Jed retorted wittily. He paused, screwing up his face in concentration. “You talk like a…” Another pause. “...like a boogered-up boot-licker to a backwoods big bug.”  


Octavius burst into deep rumbles of laughter, quieting only slightly after the giggled hushes of the tipsy miniature beside him. “My friend,” Octavius began, still gasping with laughter, “I do believe you made some of that up.”  


“Not a word,” Jedediah said with mock loftiness, hand over his heart. He closed his eyes and stuck his nose in the air, proclaiming in a dramatic voice, “I refuse to believe that you, a noble praetor, would stoop to so low a level as to accuse me of linguistic falsification.” These last two words he said with snooty emphasis, and the praetor in question turned to Jedediah, impressed.  


“If your goal is to mock my way of speaking, you have failed,” he told the cowboy. “I’m actually rather impressed. You sound like one of my generals, plus a western twang, of course.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but shut it just as quickly. This did not go unnoticed.  


“But…?” prompted Jedediah, blue eyes wide and pleading and knowing all at once. “C’mon, I know there was a but.”  


Octavius sighed, reddening slightly. “But to be perfectly honest, I’m quite...fond of the way you speak normally,” he confided, stealing a glance toward his friend, hoping his blush wasn’t noticeable. Jed seemed to have taken a particular interest in his chaps, pulling fitfully at a loose thread. Octavius heard a mumbled “thanks” from his direction. A silence stretched out between them, and then:  


“I’m kinda fond o’the way you talk, too,” he admitted, and woah, Octavius finally got a good look at the blush blossoming beautifully across Jed’s pale cheekbones. The Roman felt a warmth stir in his chest, which he dutifully shoved aside until Jed’s next statement: “I’m pretty fond o’ you in general.”  
Octavius’ spirits soared. He was not foolish enough to think that Jed could feel...that their bond could ever be anything more, no; but that bashful remark was something the Roman would treasure. He found himself fighting the urge to embrace the tired cowpoke, choosing instead to sling an arm around his broad shoulders, leaning cautiously into his warmth. He felt Jedediah tense at his touch, but slowly relax as the pair gravitated closer and closer together until Jed’s blond head rested gently on Octavius’ shoulder. This was normal. They were just tired, he reasoned. Tired bros. Octavius let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and Jed looked up. “Got somethin’ on your mind, Octopus?”  


Octavius grinned, gazing towards the luminous moon. “That is not my name,” he stated, but with no real bite behind the words. “I suppose I’m just...more shaken up than I’m willing to admit about the things that transpired tonight. Aren’t you?”  


Jed was silent, eyes also fixed on the night sky. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I mean, I knew Gigantor’d come through for us, but there were times I thought it was a fight we couldn’ win. Freaky bird dudes reminded me o’ them nasty vultures...then there was that stone behemoth even huger than our Gigantor....you ridin’ in on a squirrel was pretty damn funny, in hindsight -- partner, you gotta tell me how you tamed that thing. Looked to be a lot more fun than driving our-”  


“And then there was the part where you almost died,” Octavius broke in at last, unable to wait any longer.  


Jedediah flinched, pulling slightly away from the Roman’s left side. He swallowed. “Yeah,” he said casually. “There was that.”  


Octavius turned to look incredulously at his friend. “I don’t think you’ve reflected on the gravity of the situation -- Jedediah, you could’ve been killed! Asphyxiated at the hands of that goofy tyrant! I could’ve…” his voice grew soft, watery. “I could’ve lost you.”  


“I know,” Jed said quietly, “I’m tryin’ not to think about it too much. It’s...it gave me a fright, not havin’ you to fight by my side.” He laughed bitterly. “I guess that’s kinda my fault, too, though--”  


“Damn right it’s your fault!” Octavius interjected, surprised at his own crassness. “You shouldn’t have shoved me off into hiding, you shouldn't have split us up. We always stand a better chance when we fight as one --”  


“I know that!” Jed hissed. “But I thought it was the only way -- my only chance of saving you --”  


“I don’t need saving!” burst Octavius. “I need to be with you -- ” He paused, hoping the cowpoke hadn’t read too deeply into that one. It seemed he hadn’t.  


“...but look what you did! You rode in on that squirrel, my knight in shining armor, and brought along that truthful titan to bust some ass! And here we are, safe an’ sound and back in New York!”  


Octavius sighed, nodding. “I know.” he relented. “I just wish there’d been another way; that we could’ve figured something out together.”  


Jedediah nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind next time we’re in a life-or-death situation.”  


“So...next Wednesday?” asked Octavius, grinning.  


“With our luck, probably,” chuckled Jedediah. He was silent for a moment, then eyed the Roman warily. “Partner…” he began.  


“Yes, Jed?” Octavius murmured.  


“Why do you care so much, anyhow?” Jedediah said, and boy, that was a loaded question. Octavius’ mind raced, wondering whether or not he ought to tell the truth. As a strategist, he knew he ought to weave a veneer of lofty words about brotherhood and valor and camaraderie, but when he looked into the soft, open expression of the man beside him, all pretense melted away.  


“Because you are my friend -- my best friend,” he corrected, “and I care deeply for you.” This was madness, this was folly, and he was doing it anyway, he was raising a calloused hand to graze the stubble of Jed’s lovely face, he was inching closer, he was leaping off a precipice with his cape flying out behind him…. “Because I love you,” he told his friend, and closed the distance between them.  


The kiss was chaste, soft, and positively electric. Jedediah, though he must have seen this coming, gasped softly into the Roman’s mouth. Octavius, meanwhile, found himself lost in the sheer proximity, the sheer warmth, and the knowledge that Jed was still alive, solid and sure beneath his hands and lips. Pulling back, he noted that Jed’s face was stony, unreadable. Octavius sighed and looked away, sliding a few inches to the right so that the two no longer touched.  


“I am sorry,” he said resignedly. How stupid that had been! He’d told himself a thousand times that friendship was enough, that this hard-won companionship was worth more than the realization of any pesky feelings he harbored, and he had gone and ruined it all anyway. “I shouldn’t have…that was out of line. I’m not even certain how your people view such things as this, so I...no, I’m sorry.” He took a shuddering breath, begging his voice not to waver. “We could pretend this never happened,” he began again, “or we could cease communications --”  


Octavius opened his eyes as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He watched Jed slide closer once again, link their clammy hands. “Hey,” said the cowboy soothingly, “I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousan’ times: I ain’t quittin’ you.”  


And suddenly they were kissing again, and gods it was so much better now that Jed was a willing participant -- Octavius felt Jed’s tongue swipe once across pliant lips, then slip gently inside -- the humans these days called this frenching, Octavius thought vaguely -- and it was wonderful, it was amazing, it was...it was coming to an end far too soon, hey, what gives?  


Octavius said as much. “What...did I do something wrong?”  


“No, Octopus,” said the cowboy breathlessly, “it’s just that some of us mere mortals need air sometimes.”  


“Ah,” uttered the Roman, embarrassed. “Right.” He fell silent, taking stock of the foreign emotions buzzing loudly inside his chest, the warmth spilling from his cheeks down to his neck--  


“Quite a blush you got goin’ there,” said Jed teasingly, which only made things worse. Octavius could feel it spreading up to his ears now.  


“Could say the same of you, could I not?” he mumbled, watching his friend redden too.  


“Yeah. Well. Uh,” Jed’s usual brazenness seemed to have abandoned him. It was...cute. “Guess we oughta...hit the hay, an’ whatnot…”  


“Oh! Um, yes, that sounds, that sounds fitting,” stammered Octavius. Mustering some semblance of courage, he pressed one last kiss to the cowboy’s warm cheek. “Good morning, Jedediah,” he whispered, slipping off toward his miniature Roman forum.  


“Mornin’, Octavius,” he heard Jedediah call. Once in his quarters, Octavius laughed quietly in sheer joy, and touched his fingers to his tingling lips. “Good morning indeed,” he said, to no one in particular.


End file.
